<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Happiest Man Alive by lonevvanderer</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30108198">Happiest Man Alive</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonevvanderer/pseuds/lonevvanderer'>lonevvanderer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arguing, Default Inquisitor Name, Established Relationship, F/M, Mage Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Marriage Proposal, Meeting the Parents, POV Cullen Rutherford, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:02:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,479</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30108198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonevvanderer/pseuds/lonevvanderer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Inquisitor Trevelyan's parents finally visit Skyhold, Cullen inadvertently declares his intentions with their daughter... to a less than enthusiastic response.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Happiest Man Alive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cullen slumped in his chair, his hand aching and absolutely covered in deep, black ink. Skyhold hadn’t stopped since Corypheus had been defeated, in fact, it almost carried on as if the Inquisition’s war with him was still ongoing - an influx of refugees, or men and women seeking recruitment, nobles looking for favours. For him, the work had not faltered, and his posture was not thanking him for it.</p><p> </p><p>As he leaned back, his eyes drifted to the ever-growing stack of parchment to his right, a never-ending list of things he must do. A year ago, he would have basked in the work - anything that could distract him from his splitting headaches. Now? Now all he wished to do was spend his time with Evelyn. </p><p> </p><p>The one on the top of the pile was from Josephine, obvious from her curly and beautiful handwriting. As he reached for it, Cullen decided that if it was yet another ball, he’d have no choice but to fake his death. There had already been two since the victory. Two! Cullen had barely endured the first, the stuffy outfits and raucous laughter only tolerable in his mind because it had made Evelyn and Josephine. The second time, he had attempted to feign illness, but Evelyn had pleaded with him to go - and then he actually had felt weak, at which point he had already cried wolf.</p><p> </p><p>But no, as Cullen’s tired eyes poured over the text, it was simply a request for an honour guard when the Inquisitor visited Denerim later this year. <em> Thank the Maker</em>, Cullen thought. Anything else would have been unbearable.</p><p> </p><p>A harsh knock on the door startled him, his back immediately straightening to iron as the door was pushed open. A young man peered around the corner, his grey hood an almost perfect match for the dull stone wall behind him.</p><p> </p><p>“Your presence is required in the Inquisitor’s office, sir,” the man declared, his gloved hands gripping the door, ready to pounce as soon as Cullen had confirmed he had been heard.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course,” he replied, and the young runner bolted from the door and across the bridge to what was Solas’ solar, leaving the oak door as it was behind him.</p><p> </p><p>Cullen pushed himself from his desk with a grumble, his eyes narrowed at the slightly-too-open door ahead. He didn’t want to be pedantic, but he pondered whether to inform Leliana that her runners didn’t understand what a draught was. He liked fresh air, but not when it was at the risk of the hundreds of papers delicately ordered on his desk.</p><p> </p><p>He pulled the door open, stepping out into the late afternoon sun, allowing that small annoyance to wash over him. He was working on it - not getting irritated at every little thing - but the lyrium was making it hard. Or rather, the lack thereof. He’d get there someday, he reminded himself, but even then that often felt like a lie.</p><p> </p><p>The way to Evelyn’s office was clear, if not devoid, of the typical run of servants and soldiers, and was surprisingly quiet given the hustle and bustle to be found outside and farther down the valley. Cullen offered a quick nod to Varric as he passed, unwilling to stop for the dwarf’s tales while Evelyn beckoned. She required his presence, and more often than not Cullen knew <em> exactly </em> what that meant.</p><p> </p><p>He bounced up the stairs three steps at a time, the excitement in his veins propelling him forward and the smile on his face making it as obvious at the sun rising in the east. The guard wasn’t at the door like he was usually, a signal to him that a great evening awaited him. Cullen couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. One quick rap of knocks on the door and he heard Evelyn as she raced down the steps. The door flew open, and before Cullen could saunter in to take her into his arms, she pressed a slender finger to his scarred mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“My parents are here,” she whispered, her deep green eyes wide.</p><p> </p><p>And the excitement drained out of him like a flood. Then, it was replaced by fear.</p><p> </p><p>She’d spoken of them before, though not often. Bann Maxwell Trevelyan and his wife Marianne - fierce Ostwick nobles and devout Andrastians. He knew she was close with her father, with her three brothers, before she had been taken to the Circle aged nine… but that was all he knew.</p><p> </p><p><em> Maker, I’m so fucked</em>, Cullen thought, his entire body freezing even when Evelyn took his hand in her own to lead him up the steps.</p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t shaved, his hair was a mess, his cloak had a coffee stain on it, and Maker he probably looked like he’d not slept in days (which was likely true) - hardly presentable for one of the most powerful couples in Ostwick, for the love of his life’s <em> parents </em>. Evelyn looked back at him with a grin as they ascended the final step, and Cullen could not help but force a smile for her. </p><p> </p><p>Her father stood by the balcony, his well-tailored shoulder leaning on the doorframe as he admired the mountainous terrain he and Evelyn often woke up to each morning. His coat was a bright but not garish green, a crisp white silk shirt underneath to give him an air of authority that didn’t end up ostentatious. Her mother, however, was the opposite, lounging on the settee placed at the end of Evelyn’s bed, a large purple dress matching so expertly with her raven-black hair that Cullen thought for a second it was Lady Morrigan. She turned to him and smiled, tight-lipped, as she rose from the plush seating to offer her hand for him to kiss.</p><p> </p><p>He took it, placing a polite kiss to her elbow-length glove. Evelyn moved close to him, to cling at his arm, and when he rose to stare her mother in the eye, he startled at how much she and Evelyn looked alike. The same sharp eyes, the same straight nose, plush lips, dimples - her skin was slightly paler though, and her composure was more serene, the air surrounding her held tightly like that of a true noble. </p><p> </p><p>“A pleasure to meet you, lad,” her father said warmly, extending his own gloved hand for a firm shake. He was about the same height, though nowhere near as built, and his jaw was as smooth and hairless as a babe’s bottom. “Before you go about all ‘my lord’ and such, I ask that you please call me Maxwell.”</p><p> </p><p>Cullen liked him already.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, Cullen, this is my mother, Lady Marianne,” Evelyn said sheepishly, and Cullen could have chuckled at the sudden de-ageing in Evelyn’s usually stern voice.</p><p> </p><p>Marianne tilted her head to one side, offering no words, her eyebrows raised expectantly.</p><p> </p><p>Cullen smiled. “It is lovely to meet you both, Lady Marianne.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you as well, Commander,” Her mother replied. Her voice was smooth, polite, and the accent had just enough of an Orleasian tinge that set off Cullen’s Fereldan ancestral warning bells. He remembered Evelyn telling him her mother had grown up with family just outside of Val Royeaux… or was it Jader? Fuck, he couldn’t remember - he had been too busy paying attention to a very lovely and very naked Evelyn at the time.</p><p> </p><p><em> Stop thinking about Evelyn naked</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He blinked, twice, and nodded his head politely. Maker knows where he could possibly lead this conversation, and such diplomacy was always better left to Evelyn.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so glad you’re both here. I’ve missed you, and I’m glad you can finally meet the people I’ve grown so close to in the Inquisition.” Evelyn said happily, her fingers clutching tighter to Cullen’s clothed arm as she spoke.</p><p> </p><p>She looked up at him then, a warm smile spread across her face. She looked beautiful today, though was dressed no more formally than him with her hair in a bun that was always unable to keep the front of her hair in place. Evelyn was warm, like lying on the grass on a hot summer's day and Cullen would never dare to be without her.</p><p> </p><p>“This Inquisition, dear… you’ve achieved so much. We’re very proud of you,” Maxwell said, waking Cullen from his stupor.</p><p> </p><p>Evelyn grinned, her head lowered as she did. “Thank you, father, but I couldn’t have done it without everyone else here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, don’t be silly, my darling,” Lady Marianne instantly declared, her voice high. “You are their leader, it was all you!”</p><p> </p><p>An assertion Cullen felt torn to disagree with - many men and women had died for the Inquisition, and the meticulous spywork and diplomacy of her other two advisors could not be discounted by any means - but he understood their pride. It was an emotion he knew well when it came to his Evelyn.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve raised such an amazing and strong woman, and the world thanks you for it. I, especially, thank you for it.” Cullen offered honestly, and Bann Maxwell smiled in response.</p><p> </p><p>Lady Marianne, however, looked as if she’d eaten a lemon.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, well, we hardly got to raise her, did we…” she murmured under her breath, and Evelyn shifted her balance uncomfortably.</p><p> </p><p>Maxwell outstretched his hand to place it comfortingly on his wife’s shoulder, his voice soft, yet sad, as he spoke. “We always have the years ahead.”</p><p> </p><p>Cullen lost himself in his imagination for a brief moment, soaking in the idea that Evelyn would hopefully stay by his side for years to come, that the battles of the Inquisition would one day be a thing of the past that they would look back on fondly, all the while they hoped for a brighter future. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, there is. I look forward to them immensely.” Cullen blurted out almost without realising, and he stopped for a moment and realised the implication of what he had really just said.</p><p> </p><p>Evelyn squeezed him a little tighter, her delicate hand winding into his own as perfectly as it always did. It was like it belonged there. Cullen turned to her to find her smiling.</p><p> </p><p>Maxwell pursed his lips slightly as he clasped his hands behind his back, “Forgive me, young man, I don’t think I caught your family name?”</p><p> </p><p>Cullen tore his eyes from Evelyn. “Rutherford, my lord,”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t believe I’ve heard of them,” Lady Marianne said, her eyes lost in confusion, her mind desperately trying to remember where she could have heard it before.</p><p> </p><p>“No, you likely haven’t, unless you’ve been to Honnleath,” Cullen chuckled, but the joke didn’t land. In fact, it hung in the air like a fog, and Evelyn tensed on his arm.</p><p> </p><p>The two elder Trevelyans glanced at each other, confusion etched on their ageing faces. He doesn’t blame them - who cared about anything south of Redcliffe except the people south of Redcliffe?</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve arranged for dinner!” Evelyn blurted out, her smile tight. “War room at sundown, if that’s alright for you both?”</p><p> </p><p>Both of them recover from the momentary awkwardness and smile warmly at their daughter, murmuring their agreements and asking where they were to stay the night. Cullen sucked in a breath to calm his fraught nerves, relieved that Evelyn had jumped in when she did. He wasn’t sure how long he could have maintained the silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Until this evening then!” Maxwell bellowed, pointing at his daughter as he made his way to the stairs. “There better be mutton, darling, I’ve eaten nought but stew since we left Highever.”</p><p> </p><p>Lady Marianne didn’t say a word to either of them as she glided past and headed straight for the exit. Both Cullen and Evelyn waited in silence for the tell-tale sound of the door clicking shut before releasing the hold they had on their breaths.</p><p> </p><p>“How did I do?” Cullen asked, almost frantically, as he turned to hold her in his arms.</p><p> </p><p>She placed a firm kiss on his rugged cheek before cupping it gently, “Good! My father’s always valued warriors, and you’re such a gentlem-”</p><p> </p><p>“They seemed upset,” Cullen interrupted.</p><p> </p><p>Evelyn rolled her eyes at his fretting but avoided his gaze for just a second too long before speaking. “<em>As I was saying</em>, don’t fret. House Trevelyan has always valued warriors, valued strong and noble men who embody a true gentleman. My brothers alone are proof of that.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Noble</em>,” Cullen emphasised.</p><p> </p><p>“In manner, not blood,” She punched his abdomen lightly. “You’re far nobler a man than any of the suitors my mother would have set me up with had I not gone to the Circle.”</p><p> </p><p>That was probably true, he realised. Every nobleman he’d met was by some degree a massive prick - Dorian included. It didn’t make him feel much better, because the bar was already in the fucking Deep Roads.</p><p> </p><p>“Were there many?” Cullen asked, curious.</p><p> </p><p>“Not a whole lot, I was only young, so I wasn’t really old enough for any proper betrothals to be made. The second everyone learned I could boil a bath with my hands no bastard wanted my hand in marriage anyway,” she chuckled, followed by a long and sad sigh.</p><p> </p><p>It was hard to imagine how Evelyn would have turned out had she not been forced into the Circle, and while he’d had a dream or two of meeting her at some ball as Lady Trevelyan, he knew he wouldn’t have her any other way. The Circle had been hard on her, isolated as she was, and though the cruelties were more prevalent in Kirkwall, that hadn’t made her imprisonment any less hard. The sting of guilt that he had once been a part of that hit him once more, as it did most nights.</p><p> </p><p>“It matters not,” Evelyn recovered quickly, ripping him from his thoughts, “Brandon and Warren have married well enough - both ladies are beautiful and belong to powerful families. I’m told Cecily is ninety-sixth in line to the Orlesian throne!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh wow!” Cullen replied facetiously, “We best start with the murder schemes, get Emperor Brandon on that throne as soon as possible! What an ally!”</p><p> </p><p>Their laughter filled the room, and Cullen admired Evelyn as giggled. He could swear there was no sweeter sound in the world than her laughter, her happiness. To think he was the cause of much of that filled him with love and pride.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, my love, please go shave.” she chuckled, rubbing her hand over the rough hair on his chin and jaw. </p><p> </p><p><em> Ah, yes, dinner</em>, the thought drowned him in dread, and he steadied his breath once more as his anxiety threatened to take hold of him. Evelyn looked at him reassuringly, a small smile on her lips to remind him that she would be there too, that he wouldn’t be facing them alone.</p><p> </p><p>“As you wish, my lady,” Cullen smiled, as best he could, before kissing her softly on the lips and bidding her farewell.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Not Game of Thrones, which I know is what I usually do. Been going through a rough patch mentally and decided to try and get back into my writing with something small instead of my AU. This was originally going to be a one-shot, but splitting into three smaller chapters for flow reasons.</p><p>ALSO, A QUESTION:<br/>I've always formatted my fics with a more defined paragraph break as it had always looked better on my screen than when it was just a single line break (I have done my usual double for this fic), is this just me who prefers this? Or does this look worse?</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>